


wonder at the practice

by bismuthBallistics



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family Fluff, Gen, Griddy’s Doughnuts (Umbrella Academy)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bismuthBallistics/pseuds/bismuthBallistics
Summary: What Five wants: an adventure, and a night to himself.What Five has: siblings.What Five gets: doughnuts.





	wonder at the practice

**Author's Note:**

> I specialize in plotless fluff, and I love writing tidbits that fit around the edges. No regrets.
> 
> Five's interactions with Klaus are showcased slightly more than his interactions with the rest of the family, hence the separate tag, but this is mostly an ensemble piece.

**FIVE, AGE 12**

Five spots the bright orange banner as the car passes by. Traffic is bad on the way back from the bank robbery, so of course the back seat is chaos. Klaus and Diego are scuffling over who’s in who’s space (they both are, obviously, there are six people jammed in back here); Allison and Luther are speculating about the reporters, how everyone will look in the photos, and what the news stories will say; and Ben, who nobody wants to touch right now, is huddled up in a towel that is steadily turning red. Five tunes them all out.

_Griddy’s Doughnuts._

He bites his tongue before he can ask the others what a doughnut is. If he doesn’t know, they definitely won’t, and he’s not in the mood to entertain the others with this new topic of conversation. It’s obviously a restaurant of some sort—he can see the booths and the counter through the place’s windows. There’s a sign in the window. _Grand Opening._ Five suppresses a snort. Grand isn’t the word he’d use. Even at a distance, he can tell that the booths are lined with cheap plastic and the floor is linoleum. Dad would break out in hives just stepping foot in the place.

Five has to go.

* * *

That afternoon, Five goes straight to the study and starts pulling books off the shelves. The Oxford English Dictionary, the D sections of the encyclopedia, and the last week’s newspapers all join the stack.

He flips through the pages and scoffs. The _Britannica_ is useless, and the dictionary isn’t much better. Five isn’t sure what he was expecting, honestly.

“Doughnut, noun,” he reads aloud, just so he can roll his eyes at it. “A small cake of sweetened or unsweetened dough, sometimes fried.” That covers almost everything Grace has served for dessert in the past month, and quite a few things she’s served for teatime. Not that Five attends teatime, since Dad keeps them training every minute of the day, but he likes to keep up on the workings of the house.

“Whatcha reading?”

Five grips the arms of his chair tight as Klaus drapes himself over the back of the seat. He closes his eyes and tries to remember all the ways fratricide would ruin his plans for the day.

“Doouuuuughnuuuuuuuts.” Klaus draws it out as long as he can, right in Five’s ear, and Five can feel his self control slipping. “Are you going to do some cooking, dear brother? Promise me I can taste test.”

“Bother someone else,” Five grits out.

Klaus clicks his tongue. “Can’t, I’m afraid. Ben’s still cleaning off robber guts, and everyone else is—” He reaches his arm out dramatically, then lets it fall. “Just too far away.”

“Has anyone ever told you that your lack of motivation and vapid personality make you truly unappealing to be around?”

“Yeah, you know, I think Dad mentioned it just the other day.”

Five snaps the dictionary shut on his lap. “Keep quiet.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll tell Diego exactly who spilled nail polish on his utility belt.”

“Oh, please, he already knows—”

“Then I won’t let you come with me.” Klaus falls silent and Five knows he’s struck home. Unfortunately, he’s done it by roping his loudest sibling into what was going to be a secret project. Nevertheless, he presses on. “If you keep chattering, not only will I not tell you what I’m doing, I won’t let you help.”

That gets a snort. “ _Let_ me _help_ , oh, how generous of—”

“You’ll get out of the house. _Without_ Pogo to babysit us.”

Silence again.

“That’s what I thought.” Five puts aside the dictionary.

As Klaus tries (and fails) to entertain himself quietly, Five starts flipping through the past week’s newspapers. The search is much less frustrating than the dictionary and the encyclopedias. Klaus has decided to play checkers against himself, and the click of pieces on the board and his brother’s voice murmuring to himself is… less irritating than expected.

Griddy’s Doughnuts had its grand opening earlier this week, as covered on the fourth page of Local Happenings in the Monday paper. The photo depicts a smiling, sweet-faced blond woman in a pink uniform with a rack of pastries behind her, and the caption advertises a “fun, family-friendly establishment with the best darn doughnuts you ever did try!” It’s enough to make Five gag.

_1214 Milton Avenue._ He circles the address. Then he goes back to the shelves to find a map of the city, which he spreads across the nearest desk.

Milton Avenue turns out to be a twenty-minute walk from the house. Doable, particularly for Five on his own, but it does mean twenty minutes in which Klaus could wander off, distracted by any number of shiny storefronts and tourist attractions. Five carefully traces out the least interesting route, scribbling directions in the margin of the article.

Once he’s satisfied with his plan, Five folds up the article and tucks it in his blazer pocket. Then he steps forward, making the jump from his desk to Klaus’s checkers game in an easy bound. Klaus starts, and accidentally tosses a game piece into Five’s face. Five shuts his eyes and counts to three, which is just enough time for Klaus to start talking.

“Are you done? Are we going? Where _are_ we going, anyway? Somehow you didn’t actually get to that when you were—"

“Shut up.” Klaus pouts, but at least he’s listening. “We’re going tonight. I’ll tell you where when we leave. Meet me by the front door at midnight. Don’t be late. And,” Five narrows his eyes, “don’t tell _anyone._ ”

Klaus gives him a lazy grin. “You got it, chief.”

* * *

Naturally, Klaus is late.

Five arrives five minutes early. By quarter past, he’s seriously considering leaving. If it weren’t for the fact that he knows Klaus would whine all day tomorrow, he would have departed at the stroke of midnight. Five can be patient when he needs to be, but indolent brothers do not qualify as appropriate motivation.

He’s just about to leave, ready to jump to the next block over, when he hears footsteps on the stairs. Many footsteps. As if from multiple sets of feet.

Five sets his jaw.

“I told you, I don’t know!” Klaus whispers from the top of the stairs. “He wouldn’t tell me! Go away!”

“You’re sneaking out of the house and you don’t even know where you’re g-going.” Five can just barely pick up Diego’s derisive tone. “Come on, Klaus, even you’re not that st-stupid.”

There’s a theatrical gasp. “ _Ouch._ I think my _feelings_ are hurt.”

“Gonna be a lot more than f-feelings if you don’t tell me—hey!”

The footsteps, quiet before, clatter down the stairs as Klaus tries to outrun his brother. It’s a laughable attempt, but Klaus skids to a halt in front of Five and grabs ahold of his arm. “Quickly!” He cries dramatically, like a heroine from an old movie. “We have to get away from him!”

“ _What_ is he _doing here?”_ Five hisses, yanking his arm away as Diego makes his way down the stairs. “I told you not to tell anyone!”

“I didn’t, I swear!” Klaus raises his hand, solemn-faced. The effect is ruined by the fact that Five knows Klaus. He’s not fooled.

“You picked a great p-partner in crime, Five,” Diego drawls. Five sneers at him. As if he had a choice. “He couldn’t wait to get out, he’s been t-talking about it all afternoon.”

“I did _not._ All I said was that I was looking forward to some fresh evening air!”

Five pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache setting in.

“Yeah, and coming from you? When’s the last t-time you went outside?” Diego crosses his arms.

Before Klaus can get a word out, Five steps in. “Is there any way to get you to shut up about this?”

“I’m c-coming with you.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It could be dangerous out there.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Diego cocks his head, a skeptical look on his face. “You want to babysit _him_ during a f-fight?” They both ignore the immediate, inevitable indignant huff.

Five considers. It’s definitely tempting. “You’re offering to keep an eye on him?”

“Well—”

“Even though we’re sneaking out?” Five baits the hook. “And you don’t know where we’re going?”

“I d-didn’t say—”

“And all in exchange for a little bit of babysitting.” Five smirks. “Done.”

“Hold on!” Klaus stamps his foot. “I happen to think I should get a say in—”

“What are you all yelling about?” Allison asks from the top of the stairs.

“Are you kidding me?!” Five snaps. All he wanted was one night. One little excursion, by himself. A little peace and quiet. But no, of course not. He had to have _siblings._

Allison looks kind of apologetic. Good for her. “We could hear you from upstairs. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” says Klaus.

“None of your business,” says Five.

“Sneaking out,” says Diego. Then: “Hold on, _w-we?”_

Luther leans his head out past Allison. “You’re sneaking out?”

Five resists the urge to bang his head against the wall.

* * *

In the end, all seven of them set out, because Ben noticed Klaus wasn’t in bed and came to investigate, and after that, Five wanted at least one person with whom he could make conversation. Vanya is bleary-eyed, exhausted, and not much for talking, but she’s still infinitely less irritating than the cavalcade of idiots who have ruined his plan. They walk in silence at the head of the pack, Five checking his directions and Vanya yawning as Klaus dances back and forth, trying to make conversation.

“No, really, where are we going? ‘Cause this little field trip is starting to get boring. Let’s go over a block, I’m pretty sure there’s a movie theater near here—”

“No,” says Five, and keeps walking.

“Uh, rude.” Klaus darts out in front, walking backwards so he can argue with Five. Five hopes he trips on a curb. “I think we should vote. All in favor of ditching this snoozefest, say aye.”

No one responds.

“Well, I say aye. All in favor, say nay.” And, too fast for anyone to get a word in, he continues: “The ayes have it, motion carried, let’s go to the movies.”

“You’re not my responsibility anymore,” says Five. “If you want to run off and get lost, take that up with Number Two.”

Klaus stops walking. He turns. “Dieeegoooo?”

“Nope.” Diego pops the ‘p’, reaching out to grab Klaus by the shirt as he catches up. “You wanted to g-go—wherever we’re going. So you’re going.”

“Come onnnn.” Klaus struggles against Diego’s grip for a few moments, then gives up. “You guys are the worst.”

“If it weren’t for me,” Five says, turning left, “you wouldn’t even be here.”

“And let me just make it clear how grateful I am for this unending, unimaginably boring—”

“Two more blocks,” Five cuts him off.

Vanya looks over Five’s shoulder at the article in his hand. “What’s a doughnut?”

* * *

Today may be the first time Five’s ever heard of these things, but he _likes_ them. Doughnuts are _good._ The first round goes fast, and they all order another three apiece with hardly a pause in between.

“Gob, dis is so fuggin’ goob,” Klaus groans, swallowing a chunk of doughnut almost whole. “Why didn’t we do this years ago?”

“This place only just opened.” Allison points to the sign that’s still hanging in the window. “See? And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“You can’t make me,” says Klaus.

Allison arches an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Rumor him, please,” says Five. “It’s disgusting.” Ben nods in agreement, giving Klaus one of his most frequently used _I’m-disappointed-in-you_ faces. He has no room to talk about manners, though – Five can see the Bavarian cream doughnut peeking out of his pocket, a little indulgence that definitely will not survive the trip home.

“Fine! Fine. God, you guys are the worst,” Klaus says, but he’s laughing.

The waitress, the same smiling blonde from the photo, bustles back over to their booth with seconds. She has a nervous, shaky air about her, but her expression is one of gentle concern as she asks, “Isn’t it a little late for you kids to be out on your own?”

Five smiles back, but try as he might, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s never been very good at niceties. “The article in the newspaper said this place was open until two. Is it past closing?” He has a watch, of course, but taking it out probably isn’t the right move. Somehow he feels a twelve-year-old with a pocket watch might raise more questions, questions he isn’t interested in answering right now.

“Oh, well, no,” says— _Agnes,_ is the name embroidered on her blouse. “But it is getting on past one, now, and it seems like that might be time for kids like you to be getting off to bed…?”

It’s the question that does it. Five can work wonders with a question. He smiles again, tries to be a little more sincere, and says, “It’s a special occasion. We’re celebrating our brother’s birthday.”

“We are?” Luther asks, and Diego, who has always been better at taking a hint, kicks him under the table. “Ow!”

“Of course!” Allison picks up the lie, her expression perfectly innocent. Bless Allison. “It’s, um—”

“Ben’s birthday,” says Vanya, and everyone looks at her, startled. It’s the first thing she’s said since they got to the diner, aside from what flavor doughnut she wanted.

But she’s right, of course she’s right – used in a lie, Klaus will embellish, Luther will balk, and Diego will say whatever he wants, consequences be damned. Only Ben is cooperative enough and sincere enough to carry off a con. He takes a breath, steeling himself against strangers, then looks at Agnes with a sweet, bashful smile and says, “I asked to come here specially. We saw the sign on our way to school.”

“Oh, well,” says Agnes, turning a laminated menu over and over in her hands as she tries to smile. “A birthday. That’s something special.” She doesn’t sound completely convinced, but she doesn’t need to – any sufficiently weak-willed adult will fall in the face of a child’s birthday, particularly when that child is the most well-behaved member of the party. “I’m not very—you know, not very musical, but… well, we don’t have a policy in place about birthdays yet, but whenever you decide to sing…”

“Sing?” asks Luther, perplexed.

Agnes frowns in confusion.

“Could I g-get another one of these?” Diego points to his plate and Agnes nods quickly, taking the excuse to escape into the kitchen.

Allison reaches across the table to high-five Ben. “Nice one.”

“It was Vanya’s idea.” Ben accepts the high-five, looking a little sheepish.

Vanya shrugs, her gaze averted, and mumbles something self-effacing.

“It was a good idea. I like the singing part,” says Klaus, drawing in a deep breath.

“ _No!”_ The rest of them yell, everyone scrambling to be the first to get a hand over his mouth. Klaus squawks as Diego wrestles him into a headlock.

* * *

It’s Luther – practical, unimaginative Luther – who asks the question Five’s been waiting for someone to bring up. “How are we going to pay for this?”

“Oh, easy,” says Klaus. “I’ll be the distraction, you all book it, and—”

“We’re _superheroes,”_ Luther hisses, quiet but judging. Five checks the counter, but Agnes isn’t paying attention, busy brewing another pot of coffee for the late-night crowd. “Besides, if we draw attention, Dad might find out.”

“If you don’t t-tell on us first,” Diego mutters.

Luther stands up immediately, all thoughts of subterfuge gone. Agnes looks over as the table rattles, and Five waves her off. “I’m here too, _Number Two._ I’ll be in just as much trouble as you—more, because I didn’t stop you.”

Agnes gazes at Ben, considering. Five can’t tell whether she’s heard them over the whistle of the coffeepot and the chatter of the other customers, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A thoughtful look passes over her face, and she steps into the back room.

“Luther, _be quiet,_ ” Five hisses. This conversation may be entertaining, but he’s not about to get caught because Number One couldn’t keep himself from pulling rank.

“I could tell her to forget about us,” says Allison doubtfully.

“Isn’t that basically the same as running while Klaus causes a scene?” Ben asks.

Allison bites her lip. “She won’t know anything’s missing, though. She won’t be upset.”

“It’s still stealing. We stopped a robbery _this morning._ ”

“S-some of us stopped a robbery,” Diego reminds him. Vanya hunches in on herself a little further. But, objectively, Five has to admit he’s correct.

Agnes steps out of the back room, something small in her hands. Five quickly considers their options. If she’s already told someone, rumoring won’t solve the problem, but if she’s coming over to confirm her suspicions, Allison might have a chance. It’s not likely that she’s a supervillain – could she be? Five hadn’t even considered it before this moment – but if she is, all six of them can take her, even with Vanya and the other patrons to protect. Unless she’s drugged them. Can doughnuts be drugged? None of them would have known the difference—

She sets down a doughnut on a small, brightly colored plate. Out of it sticks a lit candle. Carefully, she slides the plate down the table, leaving it in front of Ben. “Now, I’m probably not supposed to do this,” Agnes whispers conspiratorially, looking around to make sure none of the other customers have noticed her scheming. “But, I _did_ notice you were enjoying the Bavarian creams…”

They stare at her. She shifts awkwardly under the weight of their combined gaze.

“I… didn’t order this,” Ben mumbles. The downsides of using the shy brother in their little grift, Five supposes. Five eyeballs the pastry, trying to gauge Agnes’s angle.

“I just thought… since it’s your birthday? On the house?” Agnes offers a weak smile. All seven of them continue to stare.

“You set it on fire?” Luther, ever their leader, asks the question no one else wants to admit to thinking.

Agnes blinks at him. “Oh. Um, yes. So your friend can make a wish?”

“Brother,” Klaus corrects offhand, and this time it’s his turn to get kicked under the table. Agnes’s smile, still sincere, becomes a little more strained.

“Oh. Okay.”

None of them move. She looks expectantly at Ben.

“You… blow it out, and make a wish.”

Ben nods, uncomfortable at all the attention, and leans to blow out the candle. Then he stops.

“I-if it’s okay, I mean,” says Agnes, picking up the hem of her apron and starting to fidget with it.

“I’m just trying to pick a wish.” Ben’s voice is a whisper, but his words seem to reassure Agnes somewhat. Finally, he bends down and purses his lips. In the space of a moment, the candle winks out.

“So what did you pick?” Klaus immediately slings his arm around Ben’s shoulders.

Agnes looks horrified. “No! If you tell someone, it doesn’t come true!” Five highly doubts that, but then again, there are seven superpowered preteens sitting in this booth. Well, six superpowered preteens and their virgin-birth sister. Maybe she’s right to be superstitious about these things.

“Yeah, _Klaus,_ ” says Allison. “Leave Ben alone.” Klaus sticks out his tongue, which is covered in doughnut remains, and Allison rolls her eyes.

Agnes gives them another thin smile, then turns back towards her other tables.

“Whenever you have time,” says Five, because unlike his siblings, he was raised to have manners, “could you bring us the bill?” Then, after a moment’s consideration: “And a dozen doughnuts to go?”

“Oh, um, of course,” says Agnes. Then she’s gone, hurrying around with refills of coffee for the other late-night patrons.

“We still don’t know how we’re going to pay,” Allison points out.

“She gave me a birthday doughnut. I don’t want to rumor her.”

Five can’t believe none of his siblings have thought of the obvious yet: that Five would have been ready for this situation. He smirks and reaches into the inside pocket of his blazer to pull out a wad of bills. “There’s a stash of emergency cash in the bottom left drawer of the bar.”

“You took it?”

Luther is such a baby. “Not enough to be missed. Besides, no one ever uses it.”

And though Luther still looks unsure, that seems to settle the matter. Ben finishes his birthday doughnut, and they all get ready to leave.

As they’re stepping out, Five notices a plastic jar on the counter. _Feel free to leave a tip._ It’s filled with some scattered coins and bills. A man at the counter leans in to drop some cash inside, and Five has to wonder at the practice. Does Agnes undercharge? Is this a surcharge for dining at the bar – or, in a booth? Maybe, unthinkably, he’s missed a step here. Should they have left something? How much should he leave?

“Five, come _on!”_ Diego calls from the doorway.

Five stares down at the jar, trying to figure it out. Then he peels two twenties away from their leftover cash, and drops it in. _There._ That should be enough.

* * *

“Next time, it’s _my_ birthday,” Klaus declares, spinning grandly in the street. It’s too late for there to be cars around, but Five makes sure to check around the corner before leading them on.

“I’m not singing.”

“Killjoy. Just because _your_ birthday was boring, doesn’t mean you can ruin mine.”

As they walk home, Five reflects. All in all, he’s pleased with their little expedition. Diego is trying to snag doughnuts out of the box Luther is carrying; he and Allison are tag-teaming, each taking turns to sneak up while Luther is distracted with the other. Vanya and Ben are keeping their eyes on Klaus, who keeps flitting off to look in shop windows (Five decided to be magnanimous on the walk home).

Then Klaus’s words catch properly in his mind. He stops. “Next time?”

“Well, yeah,” Klaus shrugs. “We’re going again, right?”

Next time? Five hadn’t thought about it. Now that he has the address, he can sneak out whenever he wants, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the others catching him. Five can be gone in a moment. One jump, just two or even three blocks away, and he’ll be on his way to a midnight excursion, without being pestered or waylaid or whined at—

But then, it wasn’t all terrible. Briefly, unbidden, images flash into his head. Allison’s face, covered in powdered sugar. Vanya pitching in on their lie. A lit candle, illuminating Ben’s smile. Even Klaus’s off-key singing doesn’t seem quite so irritating.

He could stand to do this again, Five thinks.

And, speaking objectively, they are a team. Just this morning, they stopped a robbery.

“Fine,” Five shrugs, calculatedly careless. “But next time, you all need to listen to me.”


End file.
